A not so wonderful life
by Moo Chapman
Summary: Miss Parker receives a visitation *edited*


~~~~~~~~  
  
Thank you to a wonderful beta reader, Bec-Bec  
  
A Not So Wonderful Life  
  
By Pandora  
  
1038 pm Blue Cove, Delaware Miss Parker's residence  
  
Miss Parker reached for the bottle of single malt scotch, only to knock it from the table. She watched it roll across the floor for a moment as it emptied what little was left of it's contents. She waved her hand at the bottle as though she couldn't be bothered with it. She got up from the couch, just to fall gracelessly back down. Miss Parker focused on forcing her alcohol-drenched brain to concentrate on making it over to the liquor cabinet only a few steps away. She knew she would end up in this state the moment he said the words. All she wanted to do was forget, but the words would not leave her. They circled around, leaving all other coherent thoughts in ruins.  
  
"We'd all be better off if you had died in that elevator with your mother." She was ready to throw the phone at that point, to violently rid her self of the words, but before she had a chance, his next words hit her just as violently, "Tommy sure would."  
  
The truth of the words hit her harder then the insult had been meant to. If he had gone on to farther insult her or to attempt an apology she didn't hear a word if it. At that moment she was lost in those spiteful words. She didn't even remember if she had hung up the phone, but then again that was why she was drinking, wasn't it? To forget? She stood again. She was a little shaky at first, but was able to keep her balance and took three unstable steps to the liquor cabernet, her hands falling on the only bottle with more then half of its contents remaining, Vodka, but right now she wasn't picky. Oblivion was all she wanted, and she didn't care all that much how she got there. She didn't even bother with a glass; Miss Parker just drank as much as she could with out braking for breath.  
  
She began to lose her balance and decided to make for the couch again, she made it two of the three steps necessary before she slipped on the spilt scotch. If she had been sober, regaining her balance would have been a relatively simple act but in her current state she had no chance. Miss Parker was well aware that when her head impacted with the coffee table she would lose consciousness. The rest of her body fell to the floor, crushing the vodka bottle and sending it's broken shards into her flesh.  
  
'Maybe they would be better off if I had died with Momma,' she thought to her self. 'Maybe I should die now,' was her last thought before the oblivion she had so longed for claimed her.  
  
She woke to the unmistakable sensation that she was being cared for, a hand stroking her hair, soft words being gently whispered and the knowledge that she was loved.  
  
Miss Parker opened her eyes and was shocked beyond anything at who the source of her comfort was. She had believed that her caregiver was Jarod, but instead of finding his chocolate brown eyes looking down at her, asking for forgiveness that she could not give, she looked up at her own intense blue eyes.  
  
No they weren't her own eyes, these displayed their emotions with a freedom that Miss Parker had never allowed. Miss Parker knew these eyes, they belonged to her mother.  
  
It wasn't all that surprising that it took Miss Parker so long to recognise her own mother, she mostly knew the woman through photographs and DSA's  
  
"Shh, I'm here now." Catherine Parker said softly to her daughter with a loving smile that only a mother can give her child.  
  
"Momma, am I dead?" Miss Parker asked remembering that in her drunken state she had wished for it. Even now, with her mind clear of its self-induced fog, she wished to stay here with her mother.  
  
"Not yet my child, first you must see your wish" Catherine said in a peaceful almost indifferent tone, her hand still brushing softly in her child's hair.  
  
"My wish?" Parker asked starting to believe that her mind wasn't as clear as she believed it to be.  
  
"You should never make a wish unless you mean it, little one. Did you not wish that you had died with me?" Catherine sounded a little disappointed in Parker, but sounded forgiving all the same.  
  
"Yes, they'd all be better off with out me Momma, Tommy'd still be alive, Jarod wouldn't have any one to chase him, Sydney and Broots wouldn't be at the Centre, Lyle would have all the power to himself. No one would miss me Momma" Miss Parkers tone became disparate as she spoke; if she had died as a child she would have died sweet and innocent. Miss Parker pursed her lips and looked at her mother with curiosity. "This isn't some twisted 'It's a wonderful life' flash back is it?"  
  
"Child, my sweet daughter, your life is any thing but wonderful, and I truly doubt this will end like any Jimmy Stuart movie I've ever seen," Catherine said and held her hand out to Miss Parker, who was still laying on the floor. Miss Parker, for her part, was sure that her hand would pass through that of her mother's and she would wake alone again. Catherine waited patiently; her patience had always been infinite when it came to her children. At length, Miss Parker figured that she would either wake or the dream, for she was sure that it was such, would continue.  
  
So, she reached out and put her hand in the strong, but gentle grip of her mother's.  
  
"You're real!" she exclaimed, which seemed to amuse her mother.  
  
"Reality is perception, child" Catherine said and helped her daughter to her feet. Miss Parker was surprised to see that she didn't have one injury from her fall. Catherine gestured with her freehand, the other still firmly wrapped around Miss Parker's, for her daughter to walk with her.  
  
Miss Parker cared little of where she was going; the only thing that mattered was that she was going with her mother. She didn't even notice as the scene around her changed from that of her home to that of her place of work.  
  
"Why did they have to die Sydney?" the child's voice broke Miss Parker cruelly away from her bliss. For a moment she believed that she was looking at Jarod's clone, who had escaped with Jarod's father. That theory was dispelled the moment she saw the man the boy had spoken to. He was not the Doctor Sydney Green that she had left with out saying good night to earlier this evening, but the man she had known as a child, the man who held her at her mother's wake.  
  
"I don't know, Jarod, sometimes things that we can't control take the people we care about from our lives, we have to learn to go on with out them," Sydney said standing in front of the young boy with one hand on the boy's shoulder  
  
"She was my best friend Sydney. She was my light," the young Jarod said as twin tears broke free and ran down her cheeks  
  
"I know, Jarod, but you must harden yourself to these things," Sydney said and turned his back on the young pretender.  
  
"Do you still think that he is better off?" Catherine asked, she seemed unworried that Sydney or Jarod might hear her. From that Miss Parker deduced that this was similar to the visitations of the three ghosts of Christmas in A Christmas Carol.  
  
"Yes, he's strong, with out me he'll be stronger. I've stood between him and his family so many times, I know he'll be better off with out me," Parker said, and she believed it. Nevertheless her heart ached for the boy in front of her. The boy that had been her first true friend.  
  
"We will see how much stronger he becomes," Catherine said.  
  
At her words the scene changed to a dark room deep within the sub levels of the Centre. Jarod was restrained in a chair; he looked to be about 37, his present age.  
  
He looked to be utterly with out hope. His head hung slightly to the right as though he lacked the strength to lift it  
  
"Oh Jarod, what have they done to you?" she asked, closing the distance between them. At the sight of him in that chair she forgot her earlier conclusion. She knelt down in front of him expecting an answer.  
  
"He can't hear you or see you, we can observe only," Catherine said.  
  
"He's unless," The voice of Mister Parker came form behind her, in her concern for Jarod she had ignored the others in the room. She turned now and saw her father had been speaking to Mister Raines. "Put him down. Be kind hes made a grate deal of money over the years."  
  
"A shame it had to came to this really, we could have used your daughter to control him for years longer, but the first surviving Pretender clone is ready to take his place." Raines said and walked out, but before the door closed, Miss Parker saw him tell some one, presumably a sweeper, "Make it Painless."  
  
The sweeper obeyed without question, the mark of a good sweeper, shooting Jarod though the heart with out thinking about it.  
  
"No!" Miss Parker cried and tried to apply pressure to the wound, but her hands had no effect.  
  
"Miss Parker?" Jarod asked and looked right at her  
  
"Yes Jarod, it's me," she said gently, tears threatening to break free.  
  
"You look just like your mom, but I knew it was you, I could never forget your eyes. Why'd you go away? It hurt so much."  
  
"I'm here now, Jarod, and nothing will ever hurt you again. I swear." She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his as she had so long ago. Miss Parker broke the kiss, but didn't move away from Jarod. She felt his last breath brush across her lips and cheek. For a good while she stayed that way. Then she turned to her mother "How did this happen, how did he get like this?" she asked softly, fearing that if she spoke any louder her voice would fail her.  
  
"Without you, his childhood, such as it was, was spent entirely on Sims. He had no reason to doubt what he was told about his parents, without that doubt he had no reason to escape. Slowly he began to shut down, 'burn out,' they called it."  
  
"How did Sydney let this happen?" Parker asked without being aware that she had done so.  
  
"Good question. Come, we'll find out," Catherine said and held out her hand. Yet again, Miss Parker didn't take it.  
  
"No I want to see Tommy."  
  
"We will see them in the order that we see them, child," Catherine's voice was more demanding now but was still soft. Catherine still held out her hand to her daughter, who had yet to move from the body of the man who had once been the boy she loved. Miss Parker moved to her mother's side, she wanted to hide her face in her mother's neck and cry for the loss of her friend, but she had a sad feeling that the need would only increase. She no longer believed this to be the beautiful dream she had when she first took her mothers hand. No, now she was unsure of what to call this experience, she feared that she could not call it a nightmare, feared it was real.  
  
"Open your eyes, child," Catherine said. She hadn't even realised that she had closed them. Fighting her fear, she opened her eyes. When she saw where she was, she wished that she had let her fear get the best of her. She and her mother stood in a graveyard, before them were two identical grave markers; they only differed in date of death and name. Jacob Green's grave held an earlier date than Sydney Green's. Sydney's date was only three weeks after her mother's and in this case her own. Miss Parker tried to remember how she might have saved Sydney's life so short a time after her mother's death.  
  
Sydney had spent quite a bit of time with her in those weeks, at her father request. Mr. Parker believed that his daughter should not be left alone but having nether the time nor the inclination to be the one to stay with her she had been left in the charge of Sydney. Parker did not remember a time when Sydney had seemed in the slightest danger.  
  
"What happened Momma?"  
  
"He killed himself. Jarod withdrew from everyone after your death. Sydney could not bear the lose of his love, his daughter and the child he had tried to replace her with," Catherine said.  
  
"His daughter, I'm his daughter," Parker asked turning her back on the gravestones.  
  
"Oh yes child."  
  
"But Jarod said-"  
  
"Never mind what Jarod said, my sweet one, he was mistaken, Sydney is your father." Catherine said softly, as though speaking to a caged tiger.  
  
"Daddy is all I've ever known."  
  
"Sydney, has always loved you, you have never needed to earn his love, he has always given it freely and without question."  
  
"He always seemed so strong even after we lost you," Parker said, very close to tears.  
  
"He was being strong for you."  
  
"Momma can we go on?" She truthfully didn't want to see what happened to any one else that she cared about, but she could not bear to stand by the gravestone of the man she just found out was her father. The only thing she could think about was that she hadn't said good night to him before she left.  
  
"Turn around then." Catherine said and turned. She knew that her daughter hadn't turned, but she also knew that given enough time she would. When Miss Parker did, she saw a black marble head stone with gold lettering.  
  
The words hit Miss Parker harder than reading Sydney's had 'John Broots' for a moment her breath left her, and she was unable to think.  
  
"Where's Debbie?" She asked, panicked. Catherine could say nothing to ease her daughters panic, she simply stepped aside revealing a second grave marker. Miss Parker fell to her knees before it and ran her hand over the words Deborah Broots.  
  
"She's just a baby." She said, neither to her mother or to herself "How?"  
  
"Jarod never escaped, so he never help Mr. Broots gain custody. Two days after her mother won the case, she picked poor Deborah up from school. They never made it home. After that, Mr. Broots started to make mistakes at work, the Centre does not tolerate mistakes."  
  
"How could I effect their lives so much," it wasn't really a question since she had no intention of letting her mother answer it. "I don't want to see any more Momma, I want to go home."  
  
"Journeys such as this one do not work that way once begun. You have no choice but to continue. You must see this through, there are lessons in all things, but there are deeper ones in this."  
  
"This is just a nightmare. I hit my head and this is some twisted, alcohol induced hallucination," Parker said, trying to apply logic to an illogical situation.  
  
"Do you really believe that, little one?" Catherine asked, wondering how it was that her daughter, who was far stronger then her in more ways then one, could doubt her place in the universe.  
  
"No, but I can't believe this either." Miss Parker said facing her mother. "You treat me as though I'm still the child you left behind, I'm not. I've done some really bad things, chasing Jarod is just the beginning."  
  
"Oh, my sweet, darling, little girl, I have watched you grow from the moment that I left you, and, yes, I admit that there were times when I had to turn my eye from the things you have done, the things that were done to you by others, but never did you stop being my baby girl. Everything you did you did to survive." Catherine reached out and took her daughter in her arms. For quite a while they stayed that way. Then, Miss Parker pulled away and wiped her eyes.  
  
"Who are we going to see now Momma?" She asked  
  
"Your brother, little angel," Catherine said. Parker was sure that Lyle was going to be better off, then again, she had been sure that Jarod, Sydney and the Broots family would be better off as well. "This way, little angel," Catherine said and made a grand gesture with her hand that brought about another change.  
  
It took Parker a moment to realise that she knew this place; it was St. Catherine's psychiatric hospital, the very same place that Lyle had sent her to when she was shot protecting 'Daddy.'  
  
"Lyle's here?" Miss Parker asked, puzzled.  
  
"Oh yes this has been his home since he was sixteen years old," Catherine said. "You will find your brother through this door," Catherine said and pointed to the door before them, reminding Parker of the ghost of Christmas future.  
  
"You're not coming Momma?" Miss Parker asked, her fear showing clearly in her voice  
  
"This you must do alone." Catherine said  
  
Parker walked right through the door, some how she knew she could.  
  
"Are you another ghost?" Lyle's voice asked. Parker turned toward the sound. Lyle was sitting on a bed that was bolted to the floor. He seemed frightened; Parker had never seen her twin brother scared.  
  
"I think so," Parker said and walked over to sit beside him. She briefly thought that it was strange that she had walked through the door but she didn't pass through the bed.  
  
"I don't think I ever hurt you, did I?" Lyle asked but gave her no time to answer, "Is that why you're here? To make me pay?"  
  
"No, no you never hurt me," she said and wondered if her hand would pass through him. If it did, it would no doubt frighten him more so she thought she best not try.  
  
"You have pretty eyes," he said.  
  
"They're like yours," she replied.  
  
"Really I hardly remember, no reflection" he said and gestured around the room.  
  
"Why are you here?" she asked  
  
"He kept putting me in the shed, but I showed him. I made him pay. Sorry about the others though," he said and he really looked as though he meant it.  
  
"I'm sure you are," she said softly.  
  
"You want to go now don't you, 'cause I'm bad?" Lyle asked.  
  
"I forgive you," Miss Parker said softly.  
  
"But you're going to go any way, aren't you?"  
  
"Yes, I have to," Miss Parker said and stood. She walked toward the door, and she was just about to pass through it when Lyle asked:  
  
"What's your name?"  
  
She opened her mouth and to say Parker when she surprised her self by saying "Madeline, my name is Madeline."  
  
"Good bye, Madeline."  
  
"Good bye, Bobby" Parker said and walked through the door. Her mother was standing waiting for her. "What happened why isn't he at the Centre?"  
  
"Without you to challenge his power, Mister Raines had no use for him. Mister Raines was always afraid of you my dear" Catherine said. "Afraid of the great power you have with in you" She looked as though she was ready to run though the door and take her son in her arms.  
  
"Is it Tommy's turn now?" Miss Parker asked frightened of both possible answers.  
  
"Yes," was Catherine's answer. She held out her hand and Parker took it. This time the scene changed to a construction site  
  
"Gates," a man called out from what seemed to be the site office.  
  
"Yeah," Tommy called back. For a moment, Parker wanted to rush over to him and throw her arms around his neck, but then she remembered that she couldn't.  
  
"Hospital called, your wife's in labour, get over there," The man called out with a happy smile. Tommy dropped what he was doing and ran to his car.  
  
"I've seen enough Momma," at Miss Parker's words every thing went black.  
  
"So you have made you choice," Catherine said, more then asked.  
  
"A part of me wants to give this life to Tommy, a wife, a child, but can't trade Jarod's freedom Lyle's sanity, such as it is, or Sydney life, not to mention poor Broots and Debbie, not even for Tommy. I can't believe I'm going to say this but the world is a better place with me in it."  
  
"Not the world my little Madeline, just the Centre." Catherine said.  
  
Miss Parker's head started to hurt. "Momma?" She asked. As she fell for the second time this evening.  
  
"Shh, I'm here now." Catherine said. Parker closed her eyes for less then a second, when she opened them her mother was gone and she was back in her house.  
  
The pain in her shoulder shot down her arm; her face was covered in dry blood. The pain in her head was so overpowering that she couldn't feel anything else. Parker fumbled with the phone using her good arm and dialled Sydney's phone number.  
  
"Hello," a sleepy voice answered after several rings.  
  
"Sydney?" Parker asked.  
  
"Parker, what's wrong?" he asked suddenly awake.  
  
"I hit my head."  
  
The end??? 


End file.
